An Old Poem

I think I wrote this last year when a friend and I challenged ourselves to a poetry competition. I used to think it stunk, but now I think it's decent enough to share. It's the only poetry I've written since my sophomore year in college, when the professor told me I'd "gone completely bonkers." Maybe I'll be artsy and call this "Untitled."

If a rose had feelings it would tell you
To love its thorns more than its blossom.
Clench them in a fist, the blood
Scalding your skin, trickling down your arm
Until it trails from wound to elbow.
Hard, unyielding realness; constant
In all things but beauty. Protecting
Innocence from the dangers of the garden.
Hidden in the shade of a beautiful song
That fades before you can hear the music.